


Phantom Fangs

by chiaroscure



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Vampire Turning, cape sharing challenge (kind of), fragment collection, the trans allegory is strong in this one folks sorry bout it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiaroscure/pseuds/chiaroscure
Summary: Some people are just supposed to be vampires, you know?A character study detailing the trials and tribulations of an individual on a long, annoying quest for self-actualization.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 25
Kudos: 66





	Phantom Fangs

The plastic fangs came in a box shaped like a coffin. The instructions for fitting them say to mix the little pot of powder with the little bottle of liquid, then to put half of the paste into each fang. Guillermo holds the fake teeth onto his own for the five minutes it will take the paste to dry, daring himself not to look in the mirror until the customization process is done.

Yeah, there are better quality options than these fifteen-dollar fangs from the Halloween shop, but those all cost a lot more. The brand he got has the best reviews for his price range, and they’re a massive upgrade from the awful cereal box prizes he used to collect as a kid.

The timer goes off. Guillermo bolts to the mirror to see how they look.

The color doesn’t quite match the rest of his teeth, but there they are. Fangs, passable at a glance, transforming his smile into something sharp and interesting and cool. He admires the effect from different angles, with different expressions, his heart fluttering giddily.

 _When I get the really good ones,_ he thinks, _I shouldn’t expect to be able to see what I look like at all. Ha_. 

He has to take them out for dinner, but he can’t resist popping them back in after shutting himself away in his bedroom for the night.

*

“I can’t concentrate,” Guillermo says, resting his forehead defeatedly the table. “My heartbeat’s distracting me again.”

Jeremy raises an eyebrow at him. “Your _heartbeat_ is distracting you?”

“Yeah, it’s really annoying. It’s too quiet in here; I keep hearing it and not being able to focus on the problem set. Doesn’t that ever happen to you?”

“Wow, nope, never heard that one before.”

“Really? It keeps me from getting to sleep sometimes too. It’s so annoying; I have to turn the fan on when I go to bed most of the time.”

“Is that why you’re always getting like four hours of sleep?”

“No, that’s because —"

“Oh yeah that’s right, I keep forgetting you’re basically nocturnal. Or you would be, if we didn’t have school.”

“Yeah.” Guillermo pauses. “…You seriously never get distracted by your heartbeat.”

“No, dude, never.”

“Huh. Weird.”

“You can’t do the math homework because of your freakishly loud pulse and _I’m_ the weird one?”

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean…never mind. What did you get for number 54?”

*

Eventually he stops dressing up as a vampire. In high school he would put on the cape and white makeup and fangs every chance he got, but he hasn’t done that since he was nineteen.

It just feels fake, you know? He’s seen the real deal; he knows what he was trying to emulate, and at this point the costumes just feel like a parody. They don’t feel fun; the fangs don’t make him feel good; all the things he used to like playing with just feel like reminders of his shortcomings.

Worse, the cosplay seems insulting to the vampires themselves, somehow, although he has no reason to believe they would be offended. But how is he supposed to feel about having some cheap crushed velvet draped around his shoulders when Nandor is _right there_ , looking impossible and imposing and amazing in his intricately embroidered luxurious tailored cape that just seems _right_ on him? Guillermo has never actually showed any of his costumes to the vampires, but he’s sure they would laugh at him if he did.

He gives away, donates, and throws out about half of his cosplay stuff within a year of moving to Staten Island. The rest of it goes slowly over the ensuing years, the more disheartened he gets.

He keeps the fangs, though. Even if they did only cost fifteen dollars and he never wears them anymore. It’s just nice to know they’re there.

*

The idea of having scars on his throat makes him uncomfortable. He feels a combination of anxiety and vanity about his throat; it’s not his favorite physical feature on himself, but he is very aware, also, of how appetizing vampires in general seem to find him. It has become important to him, over the years, that his neck look bitable. He’s not entirely sure what that entails, but he suspects scars would make the soft, unmarred skin there less appealing. It is an irrational thought; once he’s a vampire it won’t matter if anybody wants to bite him there anymore and the whole thing will be moot, but he still worries about it.

*

Guillermo thinks about Nandor a lot.

Part of that is because it is his job. He is supposed to intuit Nandor’s needs and obey his orders all night, every night, so of course he spends a lot of time thinking about him.

Part of it is because “intuit Nandor’s needs and obey his orders all night every night” means spending basically all night every night with Nandor. They get a lot of quality time together. If he didn’t have to call him Master and do all the familiar stuff, he would definitely consider Nandor his friend. Good friend. Best friend, even. 

Part of it is that Nandor is what Guillermo wants to be. Handsome. Powerful. Immortal. And, most importantly, a vampire. Nandor carries the key to Guillermo’s deepest desire in his veins. Is it any wonder that Guillermo would be a little bit hung up on him?

Eventually Guillermo realizes that he also thinks about Nandor a lot because at some point he kind of fell in love with him accidentally when he wasn’t paying attention.

The day he realizes that is a good day.

That _night_ is a mess of doubt and anxiety, though. _Could this ever work out even if I was a vampire? Can I still be professional now? Do I have a service kink that I never noticed before?_

_Do I really want to be a vampire, or do I just want to be with one?_

*

The answers, a week later, are: _unclear — yes —…more data needed…_

And _both_. _Of course_ both.

*

“Did it leave scars?” Guillermo asks. “When you were bitten?”

“How am I supposed to know that? Vampires do not have reflections, Guillermo, you should know that by now! So forgetful…”

“What about other vampires, though? Nadja or Laszlo, or —?”

“What, do you think I go around, ‘hello, nice to meet you, may I look at your neck for scars please?’” Nandor huffs. “That would be very rude, if I did that! Nobody would invite me to parties anymore.”

“…Do people invite you to parties now?”

“…That is not the point.”

*

“Guillermo, what are you thinking about?”

It takes Guillermo a moment to realize that Nandor is speaking to him.

“What? Hold on, I can’t hear —” He fumbles to pause the video. “Okay, say again?”

“I have asked you what you are thinking about, Guillermo!” Nandor repeats indignantly. “What are you doing with that noisy tiara over your ears so that you cannot hear me?

“These?" He pulls the headphones off. "I’m playing a movie. So I’m thinking about that, I guess? Why?”

“Your pulse has gotten very fast over there. It sounded as if you are having a heart attack or something. It is very distracting to me right now, when I am trying to read.”

“Oh. I’m sorry my heart attack is a distraction from your book.”

“That is okay but do not do it again.”

Guillermo turns away, rolling his eyes. “I hate it that you can hear my pulse…”

“What are you saying?” Nandor snaps.

“Nothing.”

“It had better be nothing.”

Guillermo sighs.

*

Nadja’s scars are the first he notices.

They are lower down on her throat than he expected; her collars, ruffs, and hair have been hiding them from sight. They are also very faint, and it’s not like he spends a lot of time staring at Nadja’s neck, so if a hint of them was ever visible he probably would have missed it anyway.

But one night she is wearing a blouse that hits just above her collarbone, and her hair is brushed such that it streams down her back rather than over her shoulders, and Guillermo happens to be talking to her when she suddenly twists her head to look up at the ceiling, and there they are. Two tiny white marks, just barely paler than the rest of her skin. Nearly invisible, but unmistakable.

“What is the matter with you? Has your sad little human brain finally broken?” She snaps her fingers in his face. “Hellooo Gizmo…”

“Sorry, what?” he says, shaking himself out of the shock from his discovery.

She quirks an eyebrow skeptically. He glances at her neck again, feeling oddly lightheaded.

 _They do scar_ , his thoughts buzz, muffling her voice as she repeats herself. _Their bites do scar._

_…They don’t look as bad as I expected._

*

It’s fine that Nadja turned Jenna. It’s not _fair_ , but it’s fine. Guillermo doesn’t care. Why would he _care_?

Who cares that he’s been slaving away here for over ten years trying to earn his own vampirism? Who cares that he knows practically everything there is to know about vampires, real, fictional, and folkloric, and she’s read _maybe_ one or two pop fantasy novels? Who cares that this has been something he has been thinking about — dreaming of — yearning for for more than half his life, and she’s just some LARPer? Who cares that he would be a fucking amazing vampire and she can barely turn into a bat?

Who cares! Not Guillermo, that’s for sure. He started grinding his teeth at night because he doesn’t care at all that Jenna didn’t have to do anything to get turned and there’s no date in sight for him! That’s fine! There’s nothing he can do about it, so it’s fine! It would be stupid for him to care about something stupid like that! He’s not jealous at all!

…Okay, yeah, he probably needs to work on making that sound more convincing in his head.

*

“Oops.”

“I do think I like the sound of that…why are you saying oops?”

Guillermo inspects his mistake with a grimace. “It’s fine…I just, uh, I just shaved a little high right _here_ , and —”

Nandor swats at his hand. “Stop doing that.”

“Wait, are you _ticklish_?

“No, I am only saying to stop because that spot is a very — this is not the point! What have you done to my beard?”

“It’s okay, I just took it up a little high so it’s not quite even, but it’s under your chin so no one will be able to tell. It’ll grow back in a few days anyway.”

“I do not know if I believe you about that, Guillermo…go and get Laszlo.”

“What? Why?”

“I want to have a secondary sources about this.”

“A second opinion, you mean?”

“That is what I said! Now are you going to bring Laszlo to me or do I —”

Guillermo’s eyes catch on a dot of white on the newly exposed skin on Nandor’s throat. “What is this?”

“What is what? Why are you always assuming that I can see what you are talking about tonight?”

Two dots of white. Forgetting himself, he trails his fingertips over them. “Are these…?”

“What else have you done to my neck?”

“No, that’s not…are these the scars from when you were turned?”

Nandor swats at him again. “I don’t know, who cares?”

“ _Are_ they?”

“Fine, yes, sure, but it is none of your business about that.”

Guillermo lowers his hand to his side, biting his lip thoughtfully. “…They look good.”

“That is not something for you to be saying to me about it. But thank you?”

Nandor watches him evaluatively for a long moment. Guillermo straightens his shoulders and coughs.

“Right, I’ll go get Colin Robinson.”

“Thank y— wait!” Nandor calls after him, but Guillermo is gone by the time he realizes his mistake. “That is not what I said! Guillermo! I said to get _Laszlo_ , Guillermo! Not… _shit_.”

*

“Why did Nadja turn Jenna?”

Laszlo taps the side of his nose with a smirk. “Ah, who can untangle the wicked weaving of my dark lady’s wiles.”

“I’m serious, Laszlo.” Guillermo plants himself in front of Laszlo as the vampire tries to side-step him in the hallway. “I know you didn’t get it at the time either. She was never even a familiar. She didn’t _earn_ it. So why her?”

Laszlo tries to get around him again. “This seems like a question about and for Nadja, not me.”

“It’s not.”

Laszlo looks almost uncomfortable now. “Are you certain you wouldn’t rather speak to Nandor about that?”

“No, I would not.”

“Fine. You’re not thinking about it the right way ‘round. You’ve still got your familiars’ lenses on, but it doesn’t work like that.”

Guillermo’s heart stutters like it’s been tripped. “…What?”

“You say she didn’t earn it as if _anybody_ earns it. I would have expected even you to have worked it out after this long.”

“What…what does that mean?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Guillermo _de la Cruz_ , you’re not _that_ dim. I’m sure you cannot imagine my good self as a familiar, can you? Or Nadja? Or _Nandor_? The stuff that makes for good vampires is not the stuff that makes for good familiars, chap — although damn if I can work out what Nadja was thinking when she picked such a sad virgin for a vampire. In fact, if you ask her, let me know what you find out.” 

Laszlo brushes past him, and Guillermo feels like he could die. Or, failing that, kill Laszlo — proverbs about not shooting the messenger be damned — then Nadja, then Nandor. Then maybe Jenna, just to round things out, even though technically it’s not her fault.

*

He did kind of know everything Laszlo told him, though. The longer he sits with what he said, the more the edge of shock wears off, and he realizes that he has probably known since his ten-year anniversary as Nandor’s familiar, that it wasn’t really about earning anything through service. It was just a game. A palatable lie to help him justify his misery.

That doesn’t stop the ache of having it laid out for him so plainly, though.

*

“Vampires only fight, Guillermo!”

“Vampires only laugh, Guillermo!”

“Vampires only hug, Guillermo!”

“You might not be a familiar but you are not a vampire yet either!”

Why does he even bother anymore?

*

“If you ever do turn me, I’m not going to do this to people.”

“You will not do which what to people?”

“I’m not going to have familiars. Or, I’m not going to string them along like this, anyway. I’m really going to turn them. I don’t think it’s fair to do this to people.”

“…That is probably —"

“I _believe_ people about what they say they want, you know? Although I guess maybe I shouldn’t.”

His words sound barbed, and they probably are. Twelve years of being strung along will do that to a person.

“Guillermo, not everybody is like you,” Nandor tells him.

“What?” He did not expect Nandor’s quiet, almost sad tone.

“A lot of familiars quit. A lot of new vampires die. You are not like that; you are…”

“Stupid?” He can’t stop himself.

“ _Different_.” Nandor corrects.

“Oh.”

“You are probably…” Nandor grimaces, but starts over and presses on. “You are probably also _correct_ , that it is not fair, though.”

“Oh, I’m definitely right about that. Maybe like, apprenticeships could work, or something.”

“Something sort of like this?”

“Is this…? I, yes, sort of, but also not; this is…”

“…Different?”

“…Yeah.”

Nandor seems pleased.

*

“You will get all frozen, sitting out here like this! Why aren’t you wearing your coat or something?”

“I’m not cold,” Guillermo says, although his teeth are chattering.

Nandor sits beside him on the stoop, whipping his cape over Guillermo anyway. Guillermo wants to object, but he forgets whatever point he was trying to prove to himself sitting out here in just his shirtsleeves now. This is Nandor’s heaviest cape, fur-lined and soft, and its weight feels incredible around his shoulders. Nandor tenses as he realizes what he has just done, but it doesn’t take long for him to settle down.

Guillermo leans against him, pulling the plush fur to envelope himself more securely. He isn’t sure if Nandor will let him rest his head on his shoulder, but he does without complaint, his body relaxing, if anything, more softly in response. The frigid wind blows and Nandor’s long hair tickles the side of Guillermo’s face. His fingers play with the tunic Nandor is wearing under the cape, the velvet warming more the more he touches it.

He doesn’t know what this is, but he closes his eyes when he feels Nandor rest his cheek against the top of his head.

*

His lower lip doesn’t scar the first time he rips it on Nandor’s tooth, but if the way he feels about the scab is anything to go on, he’s going to be okay with the scars — if and when they come.

*

“I’m glad it scars,” he says, fingertips feeling for the little bumps under Nandor’s chin that he has gotten better at finding recently.

Nandor looks at him like he’s not sure if he’s joking.

“You can hide them if you want to; it is not difficult, and high collars are very fashionable, and —”

“I wear high collars all the time; I’m going to want to change it up a little after this. To show off.”

Nandor grins.

“That is good, then. I like to see you showing off.”

*

He goes to check in the mirror when he wakes up, even though he knows what he’ll see there.

The lack of reflection is better than looking at himself wearing the most expensive fake fangs in the world.

“You look good,” says the empty room in the mirror from behind him. “You look like…”

He turns around, unable to stop smiling.

“…You,” Nandor finishes simply.

He starts to ask why Guillermo is crying but the words are muffled when Guillermo drags him down for a kiss. It’s clumsy; he’s not used to his new teeth and he cuts them both a couple of times, but he’ll get better at it.

He’ll have all the time in the world to practice.

**Author's Note:**

> Is this anything? I don't know, but it's been burning a hole in my WIP folder.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @[sinaesthete](http://sinaesthete.tumblr.com)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Portraits](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28928907) by [TheOceanIsMyInkwell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOceanIsMyInkwell/pseuds/TheOceanIsMyInkwell)




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